


Nothing Left To Say

by go_nuclear



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Cherik - Freeform, Explicit Language, M/M, couldn't fit all the characters in here humor me, i wrote this because of a playlist, kinda sad and kinda gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 10:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13269858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/go_nuclear/pseuds/go_nuclear
Summary: Charles Xavier is empty. Empty of love, empty of his powers, empty of support. An empty man in an empty house.Then a visitor from the future comes, and Charles is reunited with those he thought he lost, including the man he isn't sure he wants to love.





	Nothing Left To Say

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello i haven't posted here in like three years  
> anyway, all the dialogue from days of future past was taken from a pretty decent source, but because it's the internet and you can't always trust it i hope i did okay with it.   
> feel free to comment, i should be posting a chapter every once and a while because i am deep in this ship y'all.

_ “He left you on that beach for a reason.”  _

_   
_ Charles woke with a start, his legs frozen and his mind fuzzy. The words, from who he didn’t know, reverberated in his head, his heart racing for reasons unknown. He reached over to his desk, groping for Hank’s cure, the only thing left in this world besides Hank himself that hadn’t abandoned Charles or let him down. He sighed and plunged the needle into his arm, the repetitive action no longer eliciting a wince from him. 

  
Charles swung his legs over the bed and gripped the thinly covered mattress, snapping his eyes shut as he pushed himself up off of the bed. He walked to the bathroom, eyes still shut, opening them to his pitiful visage. He sighed and glanced over to his razor, looking back at the scruffy beard starting to take hold of his face. He sighed and took his shirt off the rack by the sink, the one he’d been wearing the day before, buttoning it up with lackluster effort. 

  
He traipsed downstairs, raking his fingers through his hair. He paused at the landing, leaning against the wall as if it had taken all of his energy to make it down a few stairs. He kept on, though, the small kitchen coming into view, Hank with it. He was reading the paper, sipping a steaming mug of coffee.    
“Morning, Charles,” Hank said, taking another sip of coffee. 

  
Charles had good days and bad days. Good days he ventured out of his room and gave half a shit. Bad days, he didn’t. This was one of the better ones. Hank watched as Charles shuffled over to the coffee pot, his threadbare pajama pants hanging loosely on his skinny legs. 

  
“We don’t have any food,” He stated plainly, looking through the cabinets for any sort of sugar or something to sweeten his coffee. He would have to drink it black, then. 

  
“Do you want to go into town to get some?” Hank offered, hoping Charles, who hadn’t been out of the house in weeks, would agree. 

  
Charles sat down across from Hank, taking a sip of the bitter black sitting in his mug as he stared at the Formica table. He shrugged, his light brown hair falling around his face in a curtain. Hank sighed audibly, finishing his coffee as he set the paper down on the table. Charles glanced over at the headline, something about the president or mutants or something just as shitty, he didn’t care. Not really. 

  
_ “He left you on that beach for a reason.” _

_   
_ He really didn’t care. 

  
He took another sip of coffee and decided that it wasn’t worth it, hiking back upstairs to put on his robe, the house strangely cold. Hank watched him go, wondering if he should bring up finding Erik again. 

  
_ “Maybe we could find Erik?” _ _   
_ _ “He  _ left _ us! I don’t want to see that asshole again. If I do, I promise you I will punch him in the goddamn face.” _

_   
_ Or maybe not.  

  
Charles looked around his room, finding his robe that was almost in as bad of shape as his pants. He glanced over forlornly at the framed picture that sat beside his lamp. They were all standing outside the mansion, Erik looking bored despite the small smile on his lips, Raven’s blue lips stretched into a genuine grin, Alex with his arms crossed over his chest trying to look as cool as possible, Cassidy smiling like an idiot, and Charles and Moira looking like proud parents. He shook his head, walking briskly out of the room as if he could slam the door on his painful memories as well. 

  
Charles trotted back downstairs, Hank talking to someone who looked an awful lot like someone he’d tried to recruit.

“Hank? What’s going on here?” Charles asked, looking between Hank, who was  _ on the goddamn chandelier _ , and the person watching him. 

  
“Professor?” He asked, his deep voice filling the room. 

  
“Please don't call me that,” Charles said, resisting the urge to walk back upstairs and pretend none of this had happened. 

  
“Why? You know this guy?” Hank said, still on the—oh who cared?

  
“Yeah, he looks slightly familiar. Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank.” Charles sighed, and Hank dismounted. 

  
“You can walk?” The man asked. 

  
“You’re a perceptive one,” Charles replied snarkily. 

  
“I thought Erik…” He trailed off, and Charles felt his anger rising. 

  
“Which makes it slightly perplexing that you missed our sign on the way in. This is private property, my friend. I'm gonna have to ask him to ask you to leave.” Now more than ever Charles wished he hadn’t left his room that morning. 

  
“Well. I'm afraid I can't do that... because I was sent here for you,” The man said, as if that would change anything. 

  
“Well, tell whoever it was sent you that I'm busy.”

  
“That's gonna be a little tricky... because the person who sent me was you.” Again, what did he think this would change?

  
“What?”

  
“About 50 years from now.”

  
“Like in the future, 50 years from now?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“I sent you from the future?” Well that made zero fucking sense. 

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Piss off,” Charles snapped. What was even keeping here? This was all bullshit, every last word. 

  
“If you had powers, you'd know I was telling the truth,” The man commented, stopping Charles’ train of thought. 

  
“How do you know I don't have p—who are you?” 

  
“I told you.”

  
“Are you CIA?” It was a logical option, but Charles doubted it would be correct. That seemed to be how today was going. 

  
“No.”

  
“You've been watching me?”

  
“I know you, Charles. We've been friends for years. I know your powers came when you were 9. I know you thought you were going crazy when it started... all the voices in your head. And it wasn't until you were 12 that you realized all the voices were in everyone else's head. Do you want me to go on?”

  
Charles couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Who the fuck was he to know all of that, much less say it? He wondered if Hank was as confused as he was but, well, he couldn’t know. Not without risks he never wanted to take again. 

  
“I never told anyone that.”

  
“No, yet, no, but, you will.” 

 

Charles debated for a moment want to do. Either he could keep arguing with this man, or he could humor his “sent from the future” story. The latter took less effort, which seemed promising to Charles. 

  
“All right, you've piqued my interest. What do you want?”

  
“We have to stop Raven. I need your help. We need your help,” He said, thus proving Charles’ working theory that it was pointless to give a damn. 

  
“I think I'd like to wake up now,” He said, walking into another room to try and clear his head.

  
Charles paced, an overheard conversation static in his mind. He didn’t want to see Raven again, but he feared he would have to. If this was some convoluted plot to get him to face his inner demons, he’d like it to stop. And if this was was a dream? Like he said, he wanted to wake up.

  
“What does she have to do with this?” Hank asked, slowly shifting back into his human form. 

  
“So you're saying... they took Raven's power, and what? They weaponized it?” Although he hated to admit it, Charles was starting to get invested. 

  
“Yep.”

  
“She is unique,” Hank commented. 

  
“Yeah, she is, Hank,” Charles said, keeping back the sigh he wanted to tack on at the end of his sentence.

  
“In the beginning the Sentinels were just targeting mutants, then they began to identify the genetics in non-mutants who'd eventually have mutant children or grandchildren. Then they started targeting everybody. Many of the humans tried to help us, it was a slaughter. Leaving only the worst of humanity in charge. I've been in a lot of wars, I've never seen anything like this. And it all starts with her,” He explained, much to Charles’ horror. Even if they could stop Raven, the future was never guaranteed. That, at least, was something Charles had firsthand experience with.

  
“Let's just say for the sake of...the sake, that I choose to believe you... that I choose to help you. Raven won't listen to me. Her heat and soul belong to someone else now.”

 

Erik. 

  
“I know. That's why we're gonna need Magneto, too.” Oh motherfucker. 

  
“Erik?”   
“You do know where Erik is?” Hank asked. They both knew, although they doubted he did. 

“Yeah.”

Charles laughed and started out of the room, making one last comment before he went back upstairs, back to where he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this anymore. “He's where he belongs.”   
“You're just gonna walk out?” He said, obviously unimpressed. 

“Ooh, top marks. Like I said, you are perceptive.” Let him be unimpressed. 

“The Professor I know would never turn his back on someone who'd lost their path. Especially someone he loved.” Charles tried to keep from wincing. He knew that the man, who he realized to be Logan, was referring to Raven, but he felt deep down it was Erik. It had always been Erik. 

“You know, I think I do remember you now. Yeah...we came to you a long time ago seeking your help. And I'm gonna say to you what you said to us then:  _ fuck _ off.”    
Logan angrily grabbed Charles, pulling him back from his escape into the despair he’d lived in since the beach. 

“Listen to me, you little shit. I've come a long way, and I've watched a lot of people die. Good people. Friends. If you're gonna wallow in self-pity and do nothing, then you're gonna watch the same thing you understand?”He roughly let go of Charles, who was beyond it all now. 

  
“We all have to die sometime,” He said, walking back up to his room.    
  



End file.
